


A Fleeting Indulgence (But Lasting Consequences)

by CreativeSweets



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alpha Senju Hashirama, Alpha Uchiha Madara, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angry Uchiha Madara, Dubious Consent, Dysfunctional Relationships, Everything Hurts, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Time, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Incest, Intersex Omegas, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Obfuscation, Oblivious Senju Hashirama, Omega Senju Tobirama, Regret, Senju Tobirama Needs a Hug, Shame, Sorry Not Sorry, Stereotypes, Tobirama Immediately Regrets Everything, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unreliable Narrator, Walk Of Shame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:21:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22274752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeSweets/pseuds/CreativeSweets
Summary: It never occurred to Tobirama that his plan could backfire, that, in indulging in the one thing heknewhe couldn’t have could make his problemworse.Tobirama just wanted comfort, a moment to taste what he couldn't have. Clearly that was too much to ask for.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara, Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 26
Kudos: 184





	A Fleeting Indulgence (But Lasting Consequences)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [drelfina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drelfina/gifts).
  * Inspired by [天若有情 （If Only the Heavens Cared)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22207477) by [drelfina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drelfina/pseuds/drelfina). 



> My utmost thanks and credit to drelfina, who shamelessly enabled me and was willing to scream over shit with me  
>  ~~or just misread something, mentioned it, and everything took off from there~~

Tobirama knew, the moment Butsuma died, that he was an omega. Knew it bone-deep because his gaze focused on Hashirama, on the new _Clan Alpha_ and thought: _mine_.

It took many failed experiments to get the correct seals to suppress his dynamic. And his worry that something was wrong with them constantly had him duck out of Hashirama’s close hugs, had him glare at anyone and everyone to keep them at a distance.

But of course, _Touka_ was the only one to ever pin him down (literally) and make him come clean about his dynamic.

But of course, Hashirama was content to simply think him touch-adverse due to him being an alpha as well.

* * *

The village made his problem difficult to manage, since Uchiha Madara never seemed to take his eyes off him for a millisecond, unless Hashirama was in the room, too.

Then, well, then all bets were off.

And Tobirama thought that Hashirama was a bad gambler, especially with matters of the heart.

(But he was worse.)

He wanted his older brother happy, and despite how much he disliked that it was with _Madara_ , in such a dysfunctional, terrible relationship, he had thought that an omega might be able to smooth out the rough edges of the two alphas.

* * *

“An omega? But where would we even _begin_ to find one that would be willing?” Hashirama said when Tobirama came over one night for dinner.

(He moved out when Hashirama started dating Madara, despite the _looks_ , the speech Hashirama gave him about how _he didn’t have to_ and _he shouldn’t be on his own_ , the _tears_ Hashirama had cried, and least of all the _rumors_ that spread. 

Tobirama at least made sure to shut down any he heard pertaining to how it was _Hashirama’s_ fault he moved out.)

“Two alphas can be a bit . . . _much_ at the same time, don’t you think? Especially two as powerful as we are.” Hashirama, for once, actually seemed to use that brain of his.

And Tobirama, well, he had ruminated on how this conversation could go, what points Hashirama might bring up that he could talk around.

“I’m sure I can handle you two.”

* * *

Hashirama was speechless and disbelieving.

Madara was shrewder and asked for proof.

Undressing solved that dilemma.

* * *

During, Tobirama cried.

(His fingers weren’t anything like the real thing.)

But clearly that was just because he was physically overwhelmed, sandwiched between one alpha he was not allowed to want, and another who he _knew_ hated him. So he forced himself not to focus on Hashirama’s broad hands on his hips, pretended that those weren’t anything he cared for.

Forced himself to focus on Madara, because it hurt less to think about.

There were pauses when Tobirama felt dirty, ashamed of this mockery of intimacy as he averted his eyes when Madara and Hashirama kissed over his shoulder, their cocks shoved inside his cunt as they forgot he was there.

But it didn’t stop his inner omega from _preening_ at the fact that _Clan Alpha and Other Alpha were finally fucking him_.

* * *

After, Tobirama felt _used_ , with bruises littered along his neck, shoulders, _hips_ —

Sex was never something he actively sought out, but he would accept what he had been given, nevermind how cold and hollow he felt afterwards.

It never occured to Tobirama that his plan could backfire, that, in indulging in the one thing he _knew_ he couldn’t have could make his problem _worse_.

But the feeling of his chakra diverting _lower_ one morning made him stop cold.

(Of course he got jumped as soon as his pants hit the ground. Of course there wasn’t any thought put into place as to the consequences of pushing those thick cocks into his virgin cunt and _filling him up_.)

Tobirama despaired.

Tobirama’s inner omega wanted to roll around and nest happily.

* * *

_”It wouldn’t be safe, Senju-sama.”_

_“What do you mean, ‘not safe?’”_

_“Well, with there being two, the risks . . . ”_

He shouldn’t be happy that there were _two_ , he shouldn’t be wanting to purr and chirp and rub his hands over his non-existent stomach.

He _definitely_ should not be wanting to imagine which alpha (both?) seeded him and who his babies would look more like.

Tobirama blamed the hormones.

Tobirama blamed Madara, who sought to accost him right outside the hospital.

* * *

It struck Tobirama, with Madara right in front of him, that _both could be Madara’s_. 

His breath hitched.

“What are you doing at the hospital, Senju?” Madara sneered.

“That’s none of your business.”

A hand dug into his shoulder as he went to pass Madara.

“Everything in this village is my business.”

“Oh, well, since you asked so nicely: _fuck off_.”

This time, when Tobirama went to move, fingers dug into the meat of his shoulder _tight_ and he was hauled around the corner.

“What. Were. You. Doing. There.” Madara growled, low and laden with alpha command. “ _Omega_.”

“You _dare_ —”

Madara hauled Tobirama closer. “Of course I dare. You dared _first_ , omega. How dare you.” Madara took a deep sniff. “Bloodline _thief_.”

Tobirama thrashed wordlessly, which only succeeded in making Madara grip him tighter until he felt the bones of his shoulder creak.

“I am no _thief_ —”

“You are, when you open your legs and take my _seed_ , then play at innocence while you make off with a child of _my_ clan, _omega_.”

“There’s no way to know for certain they’re even _yours_ —but I’d _bet_ you’d want me to get rid of them, wouldn’t you?”

Madara shook him a bit, and Tobirama fought through a wave of dizziness as Madara snarled at him.

“You have no _right_ to them.”

More shaking, more snarls.

“You came to us, under false pretenses—you have no right to _my_ seed or bloodline limit!”

Tobirama attempted to shake Madara’s grip. “They are half mine, giving me plenty of _right_ —let _go_ of me.”

There was a moment where Madara glared at him, seeming lost in thought before Tobirama found himself shaken so hard his teeth rattled.

“NO! What did the doctor say? There’s no point in lying, I can sense if you’re lying.” Madara used Tobirama’s disorientation to slam a hand against his belly and pressed himself close, nearly pinning Tobirama to the wall. “And I can definitely sense _these_.”

The hand, so close to his unborn children made Tobirama’s instincts kick in, and he gripped Madara’s wrist with both of his hands, teeth bared and growling.

“There are two. And they’re both. _Mine_.” Tobirama made sure to speak slowly, to make sure that Madara could understand.

But there’s no way that Tobirama would allow Madara to stake any claim on _his_ babies, whether he’s actually the sire or not. He was relieved that it was much too early to determine anything else aside from confirming that he was pregnant and how many there were. 

(A smaller part of him whined at the harsh treatment of one of his alphas, adamant that he should curl up and offer apologies for any offense.)

Tobirama nearly did curl up when hot, searing chakra crackles against that palm on his stomach. Instead, he gasped and yanked on Madara’s hand, _hard_.

“Not yours, Senju! Those are _Uchiha_ and you won’t be allowed—”

His sensing was still pinging with bright spots as his shoulder was released and his wrists were gripped tightly and pinned against the wall by his head.

“Is that why you won’t get rid of them? You were angling to be my _mate_?”

Just that word, said in that tone, coming from _that man_ made Tobirama swallow a whimper. No, he wouldn’t be telling Madara that it was unsafe to abort—hell, that might actually encourage him. Narrowing his eyes was as much of a response he would give.

“Is it not enough,” Madara started, “that the Senju have wound themselves around the _peace_ , built a village around us with _you_ , but now you want to wind yourself into my clan affairs?”

Tobirama really should be better at thinking ahead. He should have foreseen that Madara would see this as potentially stealing his heirs. The thought hurt. It was bad enough being on the outskirts of Hashirama and Madara’s relationship, but to imagine being closer to Madara? 

Once again, Tobirama blamed his hormones for making him shake, for making his eyes burn.

(He needed to be small, needed to find and build his nest, needed alpha, needed to make alpha happy—)

Tobirama lifted his chin to spite his instincts. “R-Release me.”

Damn it, his voice _had_ to quiver. Tobirama hoped he didn’t have to headbutt his way out of this, because he was just . . . _tired_. Having a surprise pregnancy sprung on him, and then being told he not only had more than one baby, but that he would have to keep them—

Tobirama felt so rundown, he might actually allow himself to build a nest for once.

“Not until you admit what you’re up to.” At least Madara gave him a half of a step back and his wrists weren’t _completely_ pinned anymore.

“Oh, you want to admit what I was up to? FINE.” Peripherally, Tobirama knew he shouldn’t be snapping like he was, knew he was saying too much. “How about: I wanted to have an encounter with my older brother that _wasn’t_ related to paperwork for once? Or how about: I thought that maybe—just _maybe_ —I’d feel better afterwards but _of course not_.”

Tobirama jerked his hands out of Madara’s hold and slapped those offending arms away.

He would NOT cry in front of Madara!

He needed to get home. Now.

“What?” Madara took another step back and that’s all the invitation that Tobirama needed.

He huffed, ignored how _wet_ it sounded and waved a dismissive hand at Madara as he passed. “Just leave me alone.”

* * *

Tobirama didn’t shunshin because he’s _pregnant_ and he was going to need a better henge soon, if he wanted to keep everything secret. That, or perhaps he would put himself on a long-term mission. Hm. And then he would come back with a couple ‘lost, abandoned’ babies? Hashirama knows how much he likes kids, he would allow him to keep them . . . right?

Tobirama ducked his head and continued taking the back route home. He sniffed and wondered when it started raining.

Stupid hormones.

* * *

Tobirama shouldn’t be surprised when his initial sweep of his house turned up a grand total of one extra blanket.

Pursing his lips, Tobirama allowed his nesting instincts to kick in, and before he knew it, he had a lovely nest.

(He _was_ thankful, at least, that he washed that apron yesterday.)

And really, Tobirama wanted to scoff at how dumb his biology was to think that the meager amount of soft things he was huddled under provided any _real_ protection from the outside.

But it was _warm_ and dark, and there was a weight to it all that had Tobirama’s instincts humming underneath his skin, satisfied.

So Tobirama just yawned and decided to take a nap.

Mission planning could come later.

* * *

Tobirama brought his mission up to his brother the hour before lunch because he could _plan_ and he’s not above using his brother’s desire to go to lunch against him to get his signature on this mission.

(Because it needed the Hokage’s signature, with all the new mission and paperwork rules, due to its duration.)

“You can even go to lunch early, once you sign off on this mission.” Tobirama said, intent to get moving as soon as possible. 

He already told his students about his ‘mission’ and gave them schedules to keep them training together until he returned. Gave them Touka’s address so maybe they’d learn _something_ from her. And Touka always did say he deserved a vacation. He’d just be taking a rather long one. Filled with actual intelligence gathering for as long as he’d be able to, physically. All that was left was to simply make the mission official.

“Is it that critical?” Hashirama was wavering, and Tobirama knew he only had to push just a little bit more.

But then Madara crashed straight into the office.

“What is that weird mission you’re asking for, Senju?”

While Tobirama had hoped to slip out without Madara coming in, he’s not dumb enough not to have planned for this outcome. 

“An intelligence mission. We need to get a good read on the other villages that are forming.”

Madara scoffed and swiped the scroll before Hashirama could sign it.

“But it must be you?”

“That’s true.” Hashirama said, looking back at him. “Why _must_ it be you, Tobira? Can’t you send someone else instead . . . ?”

“I would not ask someone else to do something I myself wouldn’t do.”

“For a _year_ ,” Madara said, heavy with meaning. “So that’s why you were asking for it yourself. So you can hide away all the evidence.”

Tobirama didn’t twitch.

“Evidence?” Hashirama sounded caught between worry and curious—a bad combination.

Tobirama crossed his arms and set his brother a look. 

“Madara seems to think that I’m planning something nefarious. I am not.”

“Less nefarious and more _concern_ ,” Madara said, poisonously sweet.

Hashirama winced. “Madara—”

“Because how will you be able to keep moving in your _condition_?”

Oh, Tobirama wanted to slap his hand over Madara’s mouth, kick him out of the room, do _something_ to keep Madara from saying anything else.

“Madara, what do you mean?”

“Why don’t you ask your little brother, Hashirama.”

Tobirama narrowed his eyes at Madara. But if Madara thought that Tobirama would back down just because he was backed into a corner, he was sorely mistaken.

“The chakra drain is minimal, and even should I require to rest, I am more than capable of setting up wards and traps, _Uchiha_. Typical, that you should think me incapable or less trustworthy simply because of the true strike of my blade.”

A breath, a moment for Tobirama to scowl and force the words out of his mouth and he hated how low he was stooping.

“Perhaps I should show you, as I did for Izuna.”

Tobirama didn’t even finish before Madara was upon him, snarling and slamming him against the nearest desk.

“How DARE you—you vicious little murderous _bitch_ —dare to even bring up Izuna?!”

“Madara!”

And then there was mokuton, hauling Madara back, but also wrapping around himself, holding him against the desk.

Hashirama stopped and took a few deep breaths as the growling died down.

Tobirama hoped that this meant that he would sign off on the mission, if only to keep them from fighting again.

But no, of course not, it would never be that simple, would it.

Hashirama looked at him with such a pained look that made Tobirama’s inner omega shrink back, before he turned to Madara and—

 _And bared his neck_.

“It must be the unusually warm weather we’re having, to make my foolish brother mix up his words so badly, Madara.”

Hashirama was _Clan Alpha_. He shouldn’t be, he shouldn’t—

“Tobirama.” Hashirama said, stern and grim before Madara could even reply. “What was that supposed to mean?”

* * *

Ah.

Tobirama miscalculated. _Gods_ , did he miscalculate in his blind, stupid, selfish desire to keep something, just _one thing_ entirely for himself.

And now his _babies_ were going to pay the price for such selfishness.

Gritting his teeth, he glared a hole into the floor and pitifully thought whether he could pull the water out of Hashirama’s mokuton and leave fast enough to avoid answering his question, if only for the time it took him to calm Madara down.

Possibly. 

He wasn’t going to risk it, though.

Instead, he licked his lips and kept his eyes on the floor, not needing his sensing to tell him just _how_ upset his brother was with him.

“Aniue . . . the reason why a year was requested, and why it must be me is . . . ” Tobirama trailed off into a whisper. “I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant?”

There’s a moment of silence, and Tobirama kept his chakra close, tucked in around himself.

“Who?” Hashirama said. “Who, Tobirama?”

Hashirama reached for him, and Tobirama couldn’t stop his jaw from clenching, despite the fact that he wouldn’t need his hands to snuff out the lives inside him if he really wanted to.

“Does that question even need to be asked?” Tobirama felt bitter, because to make him _say it_ when Hashirama surely, surely already knew the answer.

“Was it . . . ” Hashirama trailed off, before clearly thinking better than to say it out loud. 

“I do not know you at all, do I?” Hashirama said, curling his fingers away. “I didn’t even know you were an omega, and now you wish to hide this from your anija, wanting me to send you away on some ‘mission,’ so you could . . . were you going to pretend you picked up orphans, Tobirama?”

“Clearly you know me _some_ , then.” Tobirama spat out before all the fight drained out of him.

“Please do not take them away from me.” A whisper. A _plea_. Tobirama wanted nothing more than to curl up like the bad omega he clearly was.

“I wouldn’t take them away. What kind of brother would I be?”

Tobirama forced himself to look up, to meet Hashirama’s _hurt_ gaze with only a quick dart to Madara and back. “No matter whose they are, I will care for them.”

“Clearly you know _precisely_ whose they are—” Madara started, bright, sparking, _angry_.

“Why won’t you tell me?” Hashirama said as he took a step closer to Tobirama. “I am your _anija_ , it is my duty to care for you!”

This was going to be a sticking point, then. Perhaps if he, if he told them that the alpha was different—

But who?

Ah, Tobirama thought, it’s not like she was planning on taking an omega anyways. And she would always back him up, no matter what.

“Touka.” Tobirama licked his lips and shifted slightly, like he’s _embarrassed_ , tilting his head down and away, willing his face to flush.

(That wasn’t hard, seeing as all he had to do was remember the hands on him from _that night_.)

Tobirama cleared his throat a bit. “It’s Touka.”

And Tobirama knew that Hashirama understood. He had to. Touka was the only other alpha in the clan asides from Hashirama that was vocal about their dislike of the clan laws surrounding omegas—especially _pregnant_ omegas.

“Wait—what—no.” Madara said.

“But she’s—” Hashirama stopped himself with a small noise of relief. “Ah.”

“It can’t be her. You’re basically stealing—”

“What would you accuse my little brother of stealing, Madara?”

“Those are my heirs! If you claim they’re Senju—!”

“Are you saying that we want to steal your bloodline limit? Madara, Tobira is not that kind of person!”

Tobirama breathed a big sigh of relief. On one hand, it hurt, to know that Hashirama would rather believe that he had been with Touka than even acknowledge the _possibility_ that the children were his. On the other hand, he was relieved that Hashirama seemed to hold some faith in him still.

Or perhaps that was simply because it was much easier to believe a beautiful lie, than to believe an ugly truth.

Either way, Hashirama was backing _him_ , believed _him_ and—and Tobirama needed his help as a buffer from Madara.

(And that stung, knowing that the alpha hated him, would think him a master manipulator even though all he wanted to do was curl up with him. Did Hashirama and Madara cuddle, afterwards? Or was him being there simply the excuse both needed to actually do so?)

With a quick look towards Madara, Tobirama was willing to do something he only vaguely remembered ever doing once, maybe twice in his whole life. But what better time, when he was at his brother's mercy, omega status revealed, and _pregnant_?

" _Nii-san_." There was no need for Tobirama to shout it, no need for him to attempt to be louder than them.

He refused to look at Madara and kept his eyes on Hashirama.

* * *

Hashirama stilled, and then reached for Tobirama.

“I’m here.” Hashirama said as he pulled Tobirama into his arms.

Tobirama never thought himself ruled by his instincts, but to have _his alpha_ cradle him so, to be held so gently—like precious fragile porcelain—was making his inner omega nearly combust with happiness. 

“But he’s not pregnant with—he doesn’t even smell of that other alpha—!” Madara tried to say.

“Tobirama wouldn’t lie.” Hashirama said, before he nuzzled Tobirama’s head, scenting him lightly above the temple. “Shh, it’s alright, Tobira.”

Tobirama blamed the hormones, for the sound that came out of his mouth as he tilted his head up into Hashirama’s scenting. He couldn’t remember the last time he allowed himself to be held like this, the fear of being found out a constant reminder for him.

But now, now Hashirama _knew_.

And he trembled in Hashirama’s hold, clinging onto his haori as he loosened his grip on his chakra, just enough—just to _feel_ —

Tobirama closed his eyes at the first brush of that bright, bright chakra and allowed himself to tentatively— _softly_ —start to purr for the first time in a very, very long time.

He could feel Madara’s angry and bewildered frustration, but being held by Hashirama, being the one not still in his mokuton . . . 

Tobirama felt just a smidgen of superiority.

“You don’t have to take a mission to hide it.” Hashirama cooed at him, and for once Tobirama didn’t feel mocked. “Surely, surely Touka would never ask that of you.”

Tobirama took a deep breath and kept his eyes closed. He knew Touka would back him up, but, “That is because Touka doesn’t know. I would hate for her to feel beholden to me.”

And while it was true that Tobirama knew his older cousin would die for him, he hoped she would forgive him for this deceit.

“She would not. She loves you best, even more than she loves me.”

Tobirama huffed a quiet laugh. “That is true.”

Then he sighed, all but melting in Hashirama’s arms, and laid his head on Hashirama’s shoulder. “My students will be thrilled to learn I’m not leaving.”

And then, because Tobirama was feeling especially daring, he nosed his way a little closer to his neck, where the fresh pine and wood scent was strongest, taking comfort where it was freely given to him, for the moment.

Because everything was going to change now.


End file.
